I'm Not Planning on Saying Goodbye Today
by mockingjayme
Summary: Set directly after "On My Way", Sam is the only one left at the hospital, begging a comatose Quinn to come back to him and he has a few realizations along the way.


The smell of the hospital was something Sam Evans would never be able to get out of his head. He'd been sitting in the same chair for so long, tracing the lines on the wallpaper until his eyes had literally rolled into the back of his head. The steady beeping of the EKG had been comforting in the beginning, but now he just felt as if it were mocking him. She didn't open her eyes. She didn't move or blink or twitch. Nothing.

He'd been stuck inside his head for hours. He didn't even know how long he'd been sitting in the chair, but he hadn't left with the rest of his friends. He refused. Every single moment had replayed itself in his head. In slow motion, bit by bit, and no matter how hard he tried to shake it all away, her smile and her eyes pierced through the armor anyway.

He bartered with the God he wasn't even sure existed anymore. If he could just go back and let Sam fix things, he'd listen to his heart this time around. He wouldn't guard himself against love; _real_ love. Not Mercedes. Not Santana. Quinn. It had always been Quinn. First love. True love.

What if he never got the chance to tell her that?

Like he had hours before then, he reached out and took her battered hand in his. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't cry anymore, but it'd been in vain. He was alone and he was completely helpless. He watched the machine breathe for her and he dropped his forehead against the bed, her hand in his. "Please, Quinn. You have to wake up." He picked his head up to look at her again and gently reached out to brush some stray hairs from her face. He tried to pretend he couldn't see the dried blood they hadn't been able to wash out completely.

"I know you're stubborn and you don't like to do things people tell you to, but I _need_ you to wake up, okay, Quinn? Who's going to laugh at my Avatar references or help me get slushy out of my hair? Don't tell Mercedes I told you, but you're _way_ better at getting it out than she is." He smiled through his tears and didn't even try and wipe them away as he continued; his fingers stroking her arm slowly, wanting to feel as much of her warm skin as he could. He wanted to feel her heartbeat. It all seemed so uncertain now. "I want to see your eyes again, Quinn. I want to see the sparkle in them when you talk about your future and I want to see your smile and the way you walk. And not even in the perverted way. You just walk like nothing can touch you. And when you dance. I need you to wake up, Quinn." His voice had grown desperate and he looked up at the ceiling, looking for answers he was sure he'd never get.

He dropped his head back down to her bed and cried. He wasn't sure for how long, but he cried until he had nothing left to give. Hadn't Quinn more than paid her dues? Why did she have it so hard? He wanted to take back everything bad he'd ever said to her. He wanted to go back to a time when she was in his arms and he wanted to feel her laugh and hear her voice and he wanted to kiss her and tell her that he agreed with her; they _were_ perfect together.

Why did it always take a tragedy to remind you what was really important?

"You're beautiful, you know that, Quinn? Even right now. You're always beautiful. Please open your eyes. Please come back to me. Or not even to me. Just come back. You have so much life to live. It's not over. It can't be over. All you have to do is open your eyes. Please. _Please._ Just open your eyes."

He watched her carefully, as if his words could really bring her back to him. He'd heard those stories about love and miracles and stuff. He loved her enough, he knew he did. He may have spent the last few months trying to pretend like he didn't, but now he couldn't remember why. He wanted her in his life. He _needed_ her there.

She didn't move. What was the point? What was the point of the stupid God Squad or of believing in someone who did things like this without reason? What was the point, really, if all He was going to do was spend a lifetime taking everything that mattered away? What was the use of the struggles and the tears if he couldn't see those eyes again?

"My family lost everything. We lost our money, our home, our hope. But we never lost our faith. We've been beaten down and I've done shameful things to make ends meet but I never turned my back on you." He was aware that he was probably just talking to air. His whole spiritual life was a lie as far as he was concerned, but this fake god he prayed to for years needed to hear this. "But Quinn. Please don't take her away. There are so many people whose lives she hasn't had a chance to touch yet. She could do wonderful things. _Please_. Don't take her."

The faintest of movements beneath his hand caught his attention and his gaze immediately went down to the fragile little hand in his. Did he just imagine that? Or did she just move? _Please don't let that be a sick joke_, he begged silently to whoever might be listening.

No more movement came and his chest tightened. "I love you," he said out loud, meaning every single word. "I'm always gonna love you, Q."

This time he saw rather than felt a slight twitch of her finger and he literally felt his heart beating again. "Quinn?" he asked, his eyes searching her face desperately for any sign of life.

Thick lashed eyelids blinked slowly and heavily and tears ran freely down his face. Confused and heavy hazel eyes moved around the room, taking in their surroundings before landing on him. A small light of recognition flickered through them. She gurgled hoarsely around her breathing tube and Sam shushed her, his hand running over her arm soothingly. "It's okay, Q. It's okay. I'm here."

He reached over to press the button for the nurse, but he couldn't take his eyes off her. She looked scared and confused and he gently took her hand in his while they waited for the nurse. With his free hand, he wiped at his teary eyes, hoping they didn't scare her even more. He had so many things he wanted to say, but none of it was appropriate.

But she was alive. And that was more than he had a right to ask for.

When the nurse came bustling in, Sam moved as if to leave the room, but her weak grip still managed to clutch him tighter and keep him in place. Her eyes begged him not to leave her alone. She probably had no idea where she was. He nodded and sat back down beside her bed, his eyes on hers while the nurse checked everything she needed to check and said she'd come back later when Quinn was feeling a little better.

Her eyes were wide and full of questions and Sam sighed. "Do you remember the accident, Quinn?" She shook her head and he sighed. "You were in an accident on the way to Rachel's wedding. Some idiot ran a stop sign…" He paused to wipe at his eyes because just thinking about it was almost more than he could handle. "We didn't even know if you were going to make it." His eyes fell to the bed. He honestly thought he was going to lose her. He wanted to take back everything he said. Maybe there was someone out there looking out for them after all.

Quinn tried to speak around the tube, but failed, gagging as it rubbed against her throat.

"Don't try to talk. There will be plenty of time for that later, okay? Just focus on getting better." He kissed her hand gently and felt the grip on his heart loosen.

He had time to tell her that he loved her. He had time to make her fall back in love with him. He had time to see her laugh again and do all the great things in life he knew she was destined for. He had time.

And the smile she attempted to give him made him wonder if maybe she heard everything he said after all.


End file.
